


You Kissed Me Back

by eriequartz



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany), SKAM (France), SKAM (Italy), SKAM (Netherlands), SKAM (Norway), SKAM (Spain), SKAM (TV) RPF, SKAM Austin, WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Evak, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Evak Smut, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Male Character, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Lesbians Die, Nooreva, Pining, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Useless Lesbians, fast burn, gays being dumb, ish, kinda a slowburn, mlm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriequartz/pseuds/eriequartz
Summary: An angsty-ish Evak fic about Isak discovering his sexuality and Even deciding between his past with Sonja, which is stable and safe, or a future without her.tldr; Isak has internalized homophobia, Even is with Sonja.
Relationships: Eva Kviig Mohn/Jonas Noah Vasquez, Eva Kviig Mohn/Noora Amalie Sætre, Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen, Yousef Acar/Sana Bakkoush
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	1. Number 113?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This has been a long time coming for me, and I think I'm happy with this as it is right now. More chapters to come but I'm a very inconsistent writer (see: i last updated my other fic in like august and am only just beginning to write the next chapter)
> 
> 1\. CW for this chapter! There is : vomit, alcohol, light drug usage (marijuana)  
> if these are triggers for you please be aware that they are there, but all of them are quite late in the chapter.
> 
> 2\. Please leave me feedback! If this does make its way into anyone's line of sight, please leave feedback, on my writing style, anything you'd like to see  
> etc. I'm all ears.
> 
> 3\. If you do read this: thank you! and check out my page for a crackfic about chris and isak.
> 
> bye :)

Sana’s voice echoed around the almost-empty room. Isak was in the middle of a biology study session, but his mind was elsewhere. Where? He couldn’t place. Was it on the test he flunked last week – the one that’s forced him to be in this stupid study session now? He didn’t need to be here, he kept telling himself. He’s fine at biology, he just hadn’t slept for a few nights before, so his mind wasn’t in the best place to take the test. It didn’t matter anyway – what was important was that he failed, and his teacher would hear no excuses as to why, so he had to be here with Sana, a biology whizz who was practically already accepted into her biochemistry course at oxford – yes THE oxford. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Sana had stopped reading now, glaring at Isak as soon as she realised he was paying her no attention.

“I would be if biology wasn’t so fucking boring.” He said, half-throwing his textbook onto the desk.

“That’s not the attitude.” She was serious in her tone. Sometimes, on a good day, he could have fun with Sana, maybe even make her laugh. Today was not one of those days. Today she was serious, probably sick of him being a shitty student, even though she was “giving up her free time to help you,” as she particularly enjoyed reminding him. Isak knew this was only a half-truth, since she was doing it just as much for extra points on her university application. Her expression softened when she realised she wasn’t getting anywhere. “How about this? Every time we finish a chapter, I’ll buy you a coffee on our way home.”

Isak mulled this over in his mind. She was fucking smart, because she knew as well as he did that every day on his way home to his apartment he’d stop at KB, for a latte and a conversation with the pretty barista behind the counter, named Emma, if he’d read her name tag right. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Sana’s face was brighter now, tainted with the same cheeky grin that crept onto her face whenever she was winning at something, despite insisting that she wasn’t competitive. “Well in that case, we should start this chapter again, to make it fair.” She must have felt Isak internally groan, because she followed up with, “and you weren’t even paying attention anyway, so you are in no position to complain.” 

Isak sighed, “Fine.” In reality, he didn’t mind biology, on the whole, but for some reason the evolution of fucking flies did not take his interest.

By the end of the hour, they got through a full chapter, and were just starting a second when Isak’s phone flashed with a text from Jonas, and he saw that it was gone 5. “Shit, its late.” Sana murmured a few words of agreement. “So, you owe me a coffee.”

“I guess I do.”

“Then let’s go.” Isak scrambled to get all of his things into his bag, ready to leave in an instant, but Sana took her time, and Isak knew that trying to hurry her along would only slow her down, because she’d stop to berate him for trying to tell her what to do, a lesson he’d learned after many (many) biology lessons together.

When they walked outside, it was pissing it down and the sun had already set. “Fuck’s sake.” 

“What?”

“It’s raining.”

“We’re in Norway, Isak, shouldn’t you be used to this by now?” Sana said, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth. 

“I guess…” Isak fucking hated rain, and darkness and winter, because it reminded him of the winter when his mom had her breakdown, and he had to stay with Jonas, and eventually ended up blacked out on the floor of a club, which was where he met Eskild and Lynn, his current flatmates.

They walked for a bit together, laughing all the way to KB, where they were hit by a comforting hug of warmth and the familiar smell of coffee. Behind the counter, however, was a guy Isak had never seen, and without his glasses couldn’t fucking see anyway, except for the fact that he was tall. And coming from Isak, who towered over everyone he met (except this guy), that meant something.

“Hi, Even!” Sana greeted the tall stranger, although Isak had no fucking clue how she knew him, since he thought all she ever did was go to school and go home again. He, who Isak now knew as Even, greeted her back, asking about her brother and her parents, which Isak thought was odd conversation between a barista and a customer. “What do you want, Isak?” She said, turning back to look at Isak, who had barely made it through the door. 

“Um, I’ll have a flat white.” 

“I thought you wanted a latte?”

“Then why ask?” 

With this, Sana turned her back on him, probably annoyed, which made Isak feel a bit shitty, but not enough to apologise. “He’ll apparently have a flat white.” Even, the barista, disappeared back to where the coffee machines were, since he was literally the only person working, in a café, on a main road, during rush hour.

“Here’s your ticket.” Sana shoved a small, coffee stained ticket into his hand sharply. “I bought you your coffee, now I’m going home.” She was being blunt with him, but he hadn’t really expected much more; and he knew that by tomorrow she’d be fine with him again. He wasn’t particularly close friends with Sana, but he felt like he spent more time with her than anyone else, even Jonas, who he’d been friends with for fucking years, and Eva, who’d recently forgiven him for his antics last year. 

He shuffled over to the ‘waiting area’, that was really just about a metre away from where he already stood, just out of the way of the queue. 

“Number 113,” said a deep voice in a thick Bergen accent, as Isak’s cup was thrust onto the counter, half of it spilling over the sides.

“Um do have a straw?”

Even somehow seemed to have mastered a stare of inconvenience even better than Sana, almost glaring at Isak as he shoved a paper straw down. “Anything else?” He said through a sigh.

“No, thanks” 

“Anytime,” he said blankly, still holding eye contact with Isak. 

“Bye,” Isak called, but when he turned back, he had vanished, taking someone else’s order, or cleaning a table or something. So out Isak walked into the cold, thankful he had his coffee to warm his hands against. The walk wasn’t long, but my the time he’d struggled with the lock on the door, only having one hand free did not pay off there, it was 6 o clock, and he’d done no homework, and he was so tired that his joints felt as though they were filled with sand, and his head felt as though it were full of honey.

Instead of wasting the night, he decided to pass the time by researching for assignments – which mainly meant reading through his textbooks, highlighting the odd word, and occasionally googling a word he didn’t know, and then reading a definition he didn’t understand, before rewording it and writing it down in a way that didn’t even make sense, but this was how his night was going; and he probably wouldn’t remember any of it by tomorrow. 

At one point, around 8ish, he received a visit from Eskild, which both brightened his day and left him slightly annoyed – despite his love for Eskild, he knew no boundaries and for some reason could not understand that Isak, who was a straight man, was not the person to be asking about advice for guys – specifically guys from grindr who he’d met once or twice in a random hotel room. 

After all of this,,, excitement,,, Isak felt tired enough that he might try to go to bed, maybe tonight would be the night that he could finally get more than 2 or 3 hours of sleep, so he stripped down to his underwear and got into bed, pressing his head firmly against his pillows, which, despite never having been washed, were clean enough – since they hardly ever seemed to be used, especially recently. 

Nope. It wasn’t the night for sleep. He tried for what felt like hours, but to no avail. His body just did not want to shut down, which was an inconvenience at best. He stared up at the blank ceiling, trying not to think about anything, at all, but ending up thinking about his mom, wondering if she was safe – wherever she was. He wouldn’t want to live with her again, after his Dad left it all got too much for him, the constant prayers and scolding, but it still hurt that she was out there, alone right now, as alone as he was. He thinks about writing to her most days, but he can never find the right words to express how he feels. After all, how do you say, “sorry for leaving you in the middle of a breakdown, I just wanted to say hello, but I don’t want to see you.” 

You do not. So instead, he tries not to think about her, about how she’s doing or if she’s content, or if she still remembers him. Her memory started disappearing after that, and she’d forget to feed herself most days, and Isak almost every day, but she used to text every day when he first moved out. She doesn’t really text anymore. 

He tries to ignore these thoughts though, and as though sensing something was wrong from halfway across Oslo, his phone starts ringing, and Jonas’ face appears on the screen. 

“Hi bruh, how’s it hanging?”

“Bruh?” Isak snorts, “Who even are you?”

“The same person, just some new lingo – Mahdi said it will help boost my street-cred.”

Isak couldn’t help but laugh, partly because it was Jonas, and partly because Mahdi was clearly pranking him. “Oh yeah, you sound really cool, brah.” He choked out between laughs.

“I’ll save my street cred for someone else then, maybe some hot mamacitas out there.”

“Please fucking stop,” Isak snorted, imagining Jonas walking up to a group of guys and embarrassing himself so… forcefully.

“Anyway, me and the guys were talking, and we miss you, all you seem to do nowadays is study biology with Sana.” Which was true, although in Isak’s mind he sees the guys every day. “So, were going out on Friday, we’ve got a guy to get us all fake IDs, and we can get you one too, if you want to come? Please?”

Isak didn’t really want to, but he realised that all he’d do anyway is stare at the ceiling all night waiting for sleep to take him, and he could hear the desperation in Jonas’ voice, so he agreed to go. After all, it would surely be better to try to sleep while black-out drunk after spending the night with his tongue down the throat of a random girl he’d never see again. He agreed to go, then made a mental note to be drunk by 6 on Friday, which is when Jonas said to meet him. Then Jonas hung up, and Isak was back to being alone.

Upon realising he wasn’t going to sleep, Isak got dressed again and decided to go for a walk. He walked around the streets of Oslo until late, savouring the prickles of cold against his cheeks, enjoying everything that made him feel anything. He saw the faint fire light through the window of the KB he’d been in with Sana earlier, and was reminded of how well she seemed to know Even. 

As soon as it came, that thought drifted out of his brain, and he kept walking. He walked back to school, and thought about vaulting the gates, although when he realised there would be nothing to do when he got in there, he decided it would be pointless. The streets felt quiet; but not the same quiet as his room when he was alone, instead a comforting quiet, the kind where you feel alone, but as though an old friend is walking right behind you. 

Eventually, his legs began to tire, and although he’d left his phone at home he could guess it was around 3 am, which meant he only had a few hours of darkness left before the sun came up again, and he’d have to be at school and start all over again, so he began to make his way home; if only to change clothes and grab his bag.

When he walked into school the next day, he caught sight of Jonas and Magnus, and made a beeline for them, seeking a small piece of comfort that he found in a simple conversation on the courtyard. “Hi guys,” he began, “What are we talking about?”

Both of them looked back as though they’d seen a ghost. “Are you okay bro? You look….” 

“Like shit.” Magnus finished Jonas’ sentence, apparently not sharing the same tact as him.

“Wow thanks guys, I just had a rough night’s sleep, that’s all.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” continued Magnus, “Anyway, what are you doing Friday?”

“I already asked him that, dipshit.” Interrupted Jonas, laughing at his friend, after insisting that he’d told him this, which lead to them bickering for a moment or two until the school bell rang. As they walked into class, Jonas pulled him aside, “Are you sure you’re okay? You look… off,”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

Jonas didn’t look convinced, but his philosophy class was due to start any second, so he just raised an eyebrow at Isak, enough to show that he knew something was wrong, then wandered off. He knew Isak well enough to know that when Isak avoids him, it means something is wrong, and they’ve barely seen each other in the last 2 weeks. 

“How did you know that barista, Even?” Isak says, cutting Sana off in the middle of a sentence during ‘group work’ in chemistry class.

“What?”

“How do you know Even?”

“Oh, he used to be my brother’s friend, then he went a little bit… crazy… and moved schools so I haven’t seen him in a while. I didn’t even know he was working there.”

“Oh.” Isak frowned, “How did he go crazy?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

And that was that. The conversation then picked up and the duo ended up talking about whatever, since the periodic table or whatever was decidedly not interesting enough for them.

By the time Friday rolled around, Isak was exhausted, but he knew that he couldn’t flake on Jonas, no matter how shitty he felt, because he knew that it would only make Jonas ask questions, even though he was fine. So he put on a nice-ish top, enough to look like he tried, and then immediately covered it up with a thick coat, because Oslo is fucking cold and he did NOT want to add “being ill” to the list of reasons he was failing in school. He slid on his sneakers, which were not meant to be slide-on, and rushed out of the door at 6:30, half-drunk already and waiting for the shot or two of vodka he’d just done to kick in – the only way he can get out of the house to go out nowadays. 

By the time he reached them, his friends had almost all assembled, not that he could see, since his glasses steamed up as soon as he left. After a few quick hellos, and the distribution of their IDs, Mahdi, Jonas, Magnus and Isak, along with a few of the penetrators from last year, began walking to the nearest bar. Together, they all went in, and instantly the smell of sweat and alcohol hit Isak like a wall, not that he minded, it added to ‘the atmosphere’ (according to Jonas).

He tried to dance, miserably failing as he did so, not that he really cared. Were he sober, his anxiety and inhibitions would probably have stopped him from even walking into the club, but after a few shots of the tequila he kept under his bed, he felt fine enough even to walk up to an attractive stranger, of which there seemed to be many. 

He waltzed over, half-stumbling, to a mousey-looking girl, whom he had decided would be nice enough to make-out with until he got bored, at which point he’d move her off his lap and make up a phony excuse to escape the situation. It wasn’t that he enjoyed the ‘hunt’, as someone like Chris or William may have put it, or that he particularly enjoyed making out with girls, but he did enjoy that it distracted him, even if it was only for a moment. He wasn’t really sure what he was saying to this girl, who introduced herself as Sara, he thought, but judging by the way her tongue was grazing against her lips, she was willing to do anything he wanted, even right here on the sticky floor of the bar. 

So that’s what he did, he made out with her for what felt like around half an hour. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he announced, quietly, as he pulled his head away from hers. She seemed annoyed all of a sudden, probably by the fact that she knew that when someone goes to the bathroom in the middle of a make out session, they aren’t coming back. But that didn’t really matter to Isak, he’d probably never see her again, so he stood up and ambled over to the bathroom. The line was long, like really fucking long, but Isak didn’t feel like fighting the group of body builders ahead of him, so he waited. 

By the time it was his turn, the floor was coloured yellow and there was little to no toilet paper, which Isak found fine, because what kind of person shits in a club toilet anyway. However, when he came out of the stall, ready to wash his hands, he found someone had taken all of the paper towels, so he was forced into a compromise and had to scrape his hands against his jeans; which would have been fine, if it weren’t for the fact that he absolutely hated wearing wet trousers. 

He found his way back outside, after bumping into 3 people on the way out, one of whom seemed irrationally annoyed at such a minor inconvenience, but Isak brushed it off and moved on, attempting to find Jonas. To no avail, though, as Magnus said he’d also found someone to get off with, and Isak knew that meant he’d probably take her home and call Isak panicked at 5 am as he makes his escape. After all, who stays with their friends when they almost beg them to come out (not that Isak could be mad, since Isak technically ditched Jonas first, but that was just semantics)

“Ok, well uh- tell him that I’m gonna dip, if you see him again.”

“Uh, sure,” replied Magnus, and a few seconds of silence hung between them, enabled only by their distance from the massive, fuck-off speakers, before, “Are you sure you’re okay though? You sure you don’t wanna stay and find a hot piece of ass to hook up with?”

“No thanks, Mags,” he snorts, only half thinking that he was joking, although in truth he had no interest in having sex, like at all. He’d done it a few times with past exes, or even a few girls he’d met and known for only one night, but it never did anything for him; as though he were missing something that everyone else had, the thing that made sex exciting and fun.

So he climbed across the thick crowd that was slowly growing on the dance-floor, which acted like a barricade to the exit. Isak hates crowds. He didn’t know why, but something about touching 20 strangers at once (and a few of them _touching_ him back, if you catch his drift) did not appeal to him, instead it made his throat close up and his vision blur, as though he were physically allergic, and although biology wasn’t his strongest subject, he knew that you couldn’t really be allergic to crowds.

By the time he got through it, and out of the entrance, he was practically gasping for air, and his throat was so dry he could drink all of the beer in that stupid club, not that he would – because he _really_ didn’t want to have to go through that crowd again. Suddenly he felt a rise from the pit of his stomach, and all of a sudden he was hunched over, clinging to his knees, and every ounce of alcohol he’d consumed all night was all over the floor, and his shoes, and someone else’s shoes. Shit. They look expensive. 

“Shit! I’m so fucking sorry.” 

When he looks up, trying to look as apologetic as he feels, he sees Even, the barista who Sana knows. “Its fine,” he smiles, clearly trying (and failing) to look like he didn’t mind.

“I’ll buy you some new ones, if you want, I mean they look expensi-” 

“Its fine, swear.” He interrupted, “They barely cost me anything anyway, I got them from some market stall.” He was still smiling, almost laughing at Isak’s misfortune. Isak knew he wasn’t being truthful, he could tell by the CONVERSE logo on the sides that they weren’t cheap, and though he wasn’t sure why he’d done it, he appreciated his lie. 

“How come you’re not in there?” Even asked, clearly not wanting to talk about shoes anymore.

“Oh, I uh, it’s not really my scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah…” Isak stood still, balancing a leg against the wall, and Even seemed to mull this over in his head, looking at the floor as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. Suddenly, he produced a joint from his back pocket, lit it, and took a drag before offering it out to Isak. In a wordless exchange, Isak took it for a second, before trying it. It’s not that he’d never had the opportunity to do weed before, after all, Jonas made it a habit to smoke every time he left the house, but he’d just never been tempted before. He wasn’t really sure why this time he felt like he ought to; even though it was with a stranger he’d never met who, for all Isak knew, could be trying to drug and kidnap him. But he didn’t think that was the case.

Even then picked up into a stroll, and Isak knew to follow, eye’s half-closed to block out the glare of the streetlamps, which seemed both brighter and dimmer all at once. He followed Even for a while this way, only half a step behind but not feeling at all too close. Somehow, they ended up at a church, where Isak realised he hadn’t been in years, not that he allowed that memory to come to the forefront of his mind. Instead, he sat on the edge of a bench nearby, and Even seemed to notice instantaneously that he’d stopped, so he did too. 

“What school are you at?” asked Isak, if for nothing other than to make conversation, with someone he had no idea about. 

“I’m not really anywhere,” replied Even, “I’m kind of in the process of moving schools, I was at Bakka before, but it just wasn’t right for me.”

“Oh.” Isak didn’t know what to say in response to that. A few moments of silence hung between them. Isak wasn’t sure if it was awkward; and if it was, if it was him that had made it awkward, although he wasn’t really sure why he cared what this stranger (at best acquaintance) thought.

Then, before he really knew what was happening, Even was kissing him, no tongue, nothing fancy or sloppy, just a kiss. Isak’s hand wrapped themselves around Even’s waist almost automatically, before he realised what he was doing. 

“This isn’t right…” He began, pulling sharply away from Even as soon as he came back to his senses, a loss of which he attributed to sheer shock. “I’m not… like that… I’m not..”

“Gay?” Even replied, raising his eyebrows, “neither am I.”

“No, I mean I’m not, into _dudes.”_ He almost spat the last phrase out, as though to really emphasise it. “I have to go.” He said, trying to remain as cool as he could, and probably failing quite miserably, but still, he stood up and walked away as fast as he could, before turning a corner and running home to the Kollektiv.


	2. "CLOSED FOR DEMOLITION"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry this chapter took a hot minute to upload, its been busy. Hopefully, if I stay motivated, I'll be uploading once a week? Maybe once every two weeks. 
> 
> Anyway! Only content warnings for this chapter is soft drug usage, which is marked with *** before and after the part where it happens!
> 
> A little warning; this chapter is kind of rambly, but I think its useful in establishing Isak's relationships.

After fumbling with the lock for a few minutes, Isak almost falls into the Kollektiv, his cheeks flushing against the warmth of the hallway. He passes Eskild, who is half-passed out on the sofa, and Linn, who sits opposite him, reading a book in a language Isak can’t understand, so he doesn’t try. He loves his roommates, but he can’t understand how they’re friends – Eskild is constantly trying to find love (or hookups), on Grindr, Tinder, and any other dating app he stumbles across, and Linn is just, Linn: quiet, reserved, and kind. As soon as Eskild sees him though, his body jolts up, eyes now open and he’s asking a million questions about Isak’s night. 

“How was it? Was it fun? Who was there? Wait – why are your cheeks so red?”

It wasn’t a shock to Isak, who in reality should probably just have been quicker to get to his room, instead of dawdling in the living room, but he knew now that he had to answer; “Good, sure, the guys,” and finally “because its fucking warm in here.” He thought it was the truth, or he tried to, but his cheeks had been on fire the whole way home. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight Isak.” Eskild said, blowing sarcastic kisses across the room at him. Linn muttered a quiet goodnight too, but Isak had barely caught it before he slipped across the hall into his bedroom. For the first time in a while, as soon as he got into bed, jeans still on, he was asleep, and though it was tumultuous, it was sleep.

“So what _exactly_ happened to Even to make him go crazy?”

“Huh?” Sana turned to him, a frown resting on her face, perhaps because it was 8:30 am on Monday morning, or because Isak was asking about a random guy he had met once. “Oh uh, I don’t really know, my brother used to be really good friends with him, and then all of a sudden they stopped.” Silence hung between them for a few seconds before she followed up with, “Why?”

Isak really should have anticipated this question, considering there was no need for him to know anything about Even, or to be thinking about him, but when she asked it he had no response. “Oh uh, I was just wondering, I’ve seen him around alot.”

“Hm.” Sana grunted in response, and her face betrayed that she didn’t believe a word Isak had just said, but also that she didn’t really care enough about the topic to keep talking about it. “Well anyway, you’re failing and I’m heading that way too, so I’d appreciate if we could just get on with what we _should_ be doing.” Her tone was biting, and Isak wasn’t really sure where it came from, but he knew well enough not to cross Sana, so he simply slunk down in his chair and carried on making notes about whatever it was he was supposed to be making notes about.

He stays here, reading his notes through and through, making sure he understands every word, for no reason other than he has nothing to do. More often than not recently, all of his friends have other things to do, which is maybe why he’s been trying to study more often with Sana; because even she’s better than being alone. 

As they walk out together, having spent the hour in a strangely comfortable silence, Sana spots Eva and Noora walking down the hall, and nods a quick goodbye to Isak before running after them. Although he and Eva kind-of made up after last year, he doesn’t feel like talking to her and Noora, who has the vibe that she doesn’t Isak very much, so instead he turns to go home, since he had no more lessons today and he didn’t really feel like staying at school.

He decided to take the longer route home, having nowhere to be except wherever he wanted, and he had barely any homework, that was, homework that he could put off until he felt like it. It's weird. He used to enjoy homework, enjoy being a strong word, but it acted as an escape from the world around him, allowing him to focus on binomial expansion or whatever else. He wished, in a way, he still had that.

As he neared home, the Kollektiv (which still felt strange to call home, but it was the only place that fit), he passed the KB where he and Sana had gone, and he remembered that a pretty girl he was quite keen on worked there, called Emily or something like that. Between his interest in her and his _constant_ tiredness, he decided to go in for a coffee, or three. When he walked in, however, he saw that there was only one person working; and it was someone that he didn’t really want to see; but before he could turn on his heels and leave he had already made eye contact with Even, and it would look _fucking_ weird if he left now. 

So, disgruntled and no longer wanting anything, he edged towards the counter. “Hi, uh- can I have a double espresso?” 

Even eyed him cautiously, looking significantly less uncomfortable than Isak felt. “I thought you liked lattes?”

Who the fuck is he to think he knows _anything_ about Isak, past maybe what his vomit looks like. “I do. But I’m tired.”

“Ah,” Even nodded, before turning his back on Isak to make the drink. 

“Don’t I need to like, pay?” Isak called across, not quite sure if his voice would carry but not willing to try again.

“Oh, what - shit yeah, uhh.” Even stumbled over the words, which Isak thought was weird, considering he seems to be working here all the fucking time, so why would he forget? “That’s uhh, 40kr.” 

Isak passed the money across, and noticed how fucking hot it was in there, before Even turned around and produced a drink, which he placed on the counter.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Then Isak was turning on his heels, and rushing out of the door, almost knocking someone over in the process, before heading straight home. He’d had enough of walking now. 

On the way, his phone rings, and he feels a weird sense of dread when he sees Jonas’ contact photo appear on his lockscreen. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Jonas, because he does, and he appreciates how he’s always been there and everything, but lately the only reason Jonas calls him is to invite him to some boring party, or club, which Isak understands, since he almost never does anything with his friends, so they always beg to see him, but it doesn’t mean it’s not annoying. 

“Hello?”

“Are you busy?”

“No, why?” asked Isak, immediately thinking something was wrong.

“Good, you’re coming over, and me you and Mahdi are gonna get high.”

“Its monday, though man I-”

“You just said you weren’t busy.”

There’s silence on the line for a minute; Isak knew that he couldn’t escape going now, since he’d already betrayed that his evening was free. “Okay, I’ll be there, but I’m not gonna smoke with you because.”

“Yeah I know,” interrupted Jonas, “because its life-ruining when you get addicted, or whatever, but please come.”

Jonas knew Isak too well.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Luckily, Jonas’ apartment wasn’t far from Isak’s, so he didn’t have much further to walk from KB. His resistance wasn’t because he didn’t want to see Jonas, but sometimes he just didn’t want to see anyone, or sometimes Jonas just… asked too many personal questions, which is fine, as long as Isak feels like sharing. 

***CW***

When he got there though, he was relieved to see Mahdi already there, and they were both clearly high, which mostly just meant that Isak could laugh at there stoned ramblings, occasionally reminding them that drugs corrupt the mind. They all laugh for a while, and Isak is reminded of why he actually likes his friends, which he forgets all too often.

Suddenly, though, the conversation stiffens a little (a lot) when Jonas turns abruptly to Isak and asks where he was on Saturday and sunday, and it seemed to click then for Mahdi that he’d vanished then too. 

“Oh, uh I was catching up on sleep.”

Jonas eyes him carefully, clearly unconvinced by what Isak was saying, but he doesn’t push. Sometimes (only sometimes), Jonas understands when he can push Isak. He seems to know, even in the state he’s in, not to push, which Isak appreciates.

Then Mahdi interrupts with some dumb story about a girl he hooked up with who had a “cat tongue,” or something, Isak wasn’t really listening, but he was thankful for Mahdi for lightening the fast growing tension and, more importantly, for distracting Jonas, even though he knew the conversation was far from over. 

***

In truth, he didn’t know how to tell Jonas that he’d been to see his mom, since it was her birthday and he still found it within himself to visit her. He had no reason not to, after all, because she’d never been _physically_ abusive, just kind of a little, crazy, like she’d got really into religion, which he’d be fine with, if he wasn’t left a 15 year old kid alone to deal with it. It kind of fucked up his perception of religion, into a cult of sorts. 

Either way, he went, he saw her, he said hello, he knows she won’t remember it when he’s left, probably some sort of dementia, but he also knows her full-time carer, Bodil, will remember and tell her if she asks. At least she’s safe, he supposes. 

He knows he’ll tell Jonas this eventually, but he might give it some more time, since no matter how disconnected Isak feels from his mother, and how she affects him, it always feels as though barbed wire is wrapped around his throat when he talks about her.

By the time 9 pm rolls around, both of his friends are almost passed out, despite it being a fucking Monday night they are both stoned out of their minds, which Isak can’t help but laugh at. He figured Mahdi was planning on sleeping here, since he must know by now that he always passes out when he’s high, so he leaves him be. He sees this as his chance to leave, whispering a goodbye before slipping out of the door, his social battery close to 0, despite only being with them, his closest friends, for a few hours, but that seemed to be the trend. 

He walked home, Jonas’ apartment only a few blocks away from his own (but feeling like miles in the bitter wind), and by the time he stumbled through the door, which he seemed to have been making a habit of recently, and the flat was quiet, unusually so, which Isak then saw was because Eskild was asleep on the couch, a random hallmark Christmas movie playing on mute, Eskild’s favourite type of movie despite it being November.

Linn was, as usual, reading on the couch, only briefly saying hello to Isak before carrying on what she was doing, and he left to go to his room. 

He jumped onto his bed and ripped his laptop from his bag, deciding to use his night awake to work on some homework for Norwegian, since he could already feel that he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. 

After a while, his phone buzzed. It was weird, especially since he knew that pretty much all of the people he was friends with would be asleep by now, even though it was only 10:30.

_“Artvandeley followed you on Instagram!”_

It wasn’t a tag Isak recognised, but he figured it to just be some porn account, so he locked his phone again and carried on writing his introductory paragraph, which he’d now been working on for an hour. He knew that if he could just get some fucking sleep he’d be able to work so much better, but when he tried sleep never seemed to come, only thoughts. 

For a moment he thought he could hear Eskild whispher-shouting at Linn outside his door, but when he stopped typing to listen closer, it suddenly stopped.

Not that it mattered though, because a second later Eskild was half-pushed into his room, looking… nervous. Which was weird, because for however long Isak had known Eskild, which he couldn’t keep track of, he had never, not once, seen Eskild look even intimidated, nevermind actually nervous. He almost stuttered as he spoke.

“Isak, are you okay, I mean like, are you doing alright and everything?”

_What._

Okay, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Eskild walked into his room, a stuttering mess, but concern had never really been Eskild’s thing, at least not towards Isak (which he was totally fine with).

“Um, yeah, why?”

“Linn thinks,” Eskild began, rolling his eyes, “that you have been ‘distant’ recently,” with air quotes around the ‘distant’. 

Isak didn’t know what that meant, but at the same time he knew exactly what it meant, and she was right. Recently he’d been avoiding everyone, for no personal reason other than he felt more comfortable alone, which seemed to be a new but forceful preference he’d somehow acquired. What shocked him the most, though, was that it was Linn who noticed. _Linn._ He’d have understood if Eskild had noticed, which he was sure he had, after it had been pointed out, but he barely expected Linn to give him the time of day, nevermind have actual concern for him.

“I know you’re not that interested in us, which I totally get, but Linn has been through a lot of the same shit as you, if anyone could understand its her.”

This shocked Isak, who had stayed silent almost the whole time of Eskild’s little visit, because he’d never really expected Linn to be the sort of person to have a tragic backstory. He’d always seen her as just a shy, slightly awkward classics student who could speak 5 languages and yet, chose to speak none, but he’d never really thought about why.

Isak knew Eskild hated silence, so he couldn’t blame him for trying to fill it as soon as he could. “She waits up for you, y’know, when you go out.”

A few seconds and…

“She worries about you, even though she might never tell you.”

Isak was, touched. It was sweet to know someone was truly looking out for him, even though he may have preferred they weren’t, and suddenly his eyes felt misty and his throat felt dry. 

“Oh.” He began, every word he’d ever learned escaping him, “I didn’t know any of that.”

“I know.”

Eskild’s face was like stone, only his eyes betrayed a feeling of pity.

“Just, promise that if you ever need to talk about anything, you know we’re here.” 

Eskild stood up off the bed again, seemingly knowing his time with Isak was up. It was nice, really, that Eskild was there, the closest thing Isak had had to a father since he was nine, when his dad left. Isak had never felt a need to connect with his dad, since he had always felt it was his fault his mom was the way she was.

“Eskild,” he started, as the older boy began to turn around to leave. “Thank you.”

Eskild smiled back a pitiful smile before leaving, probably to inform Linn of what had happened, now Isak knew she was paying attention, and he seemed to know that he didn’t need to say anymore, other than a quick goodnight, before he closed the door – which would stay closed until the next morning now. 

He wasn’t gonna go to school tomorrow, so his struggles with sleep didn’t matter so much tonight. 

He woke up the next day to his phone buzzing, at like 9:30 am. He figured he’d fallen asleep around 7ish, not really knowing the time but it was still dark outside, which didn’t really help much, since Oslo was always dark during winter. When he looked over, already grumpy at being woken up, he smiled a little when he saw Jonas’ contact name light up on his phone screen. 

“Hello?”

“Hey man, are you at school?”

“Um, no, why?”

“Wanna meet up, maybe get a kebab or something?”

“Uh, sure, gimme 10 minutes, I kinda just woke up.” 

“Yeah,” Jonas laughed down the line, “no worries.”

So Isak rolled himself out of bed, as excited to see his best friend as he could be, when he knew he’d be grilled on why he’s been kinda shitty recently, but still, he threw on a hoodie and jeans, and his shoes, the ones which he’d only just gotten the vomit off of. 

Just as he was walking out of his building, Jonas was walking up to it, and they almost collided, both inspecting the floor. They nodded a greeting at each other, before Jonas turned round and they began walking to a café or something. After psyching himself up, Isak realised that Jonas wasn’t nearly as intimidating as he had thought, probably needlessly. 

As they are walking, Jonas stops dead in his tracks, staring to the left of them at something Isak can’t make out, until he fishes out his glasses from his pocket and shoves them on his face. 

_“CLOSED FOR DEMOLITION.”_ Was written on a large sign, and next to it was an overhead view of some houses, which Isak assumed were going to be built there. It was only when he realised where they were, that Isak realised why Jonas had stopped so suddenly. It’s the skatepark they used to go to, have been going to, for almost all of their lives, since they met when Isak had transferred into Jonas’ class when he was nine. And now it was being demolished, turned into more housing or whatever. 

It wasn’t upsetting, but it wasn’t a nice feeling, to know that somewhere which had been so consistent, and so safe, was soon going to just be a memory, and that kinda stung. 

“Lets break in.”

“What?”

“Why not? There’s nobody here right now, we might as well say goodbye.”

Isak couldn’t really argue with Jonas’ logic, even though it didn’t quite sit right with him to break in, but he was right – nobody was there, and the fence around it wasn’t too high. 

“Ok.” He smiled, and began to climb, neither of them saying it, but both of them knowing they were racing to get over first. He laughed as Jonas fell midway, shaking his hands, as his own hands stung against the freezing cold metal. 

Once they were in, they looked around, the same cheeky grin on Jonas’ face that Isak had grown familiar with (but seen fade a little recently). They walked around for a while, Isak now feeling easy enough to tell Jonas about what had been happening, about how he visited his Mom at the weekend, and how it had fucked him up.

Jonas didn’t say much in response, instead holding an expression of pity across his eyebrows, seeming to know that Isak didn’t really need a response, but rather an outlet, which Jonas was always happy to provide, even though Isak felt, and often expressed, that it probably wasn’t right to dump his problems on Jonas, which Jonas always protested in response.

Regardless, he was grateful for Jonas.

After a while, they start talking about life, how far they’ve come, how far they want to go, and Isak begins rambling about how, in another life, another universe, there is a Jonas and an Isak who are sat in this same skatepark, but its not closing, and their childhood will be kept the same. 

Jonas laughs at him, calling him a nerd in only the most playful tone. Isak didn’t mind, he stared laughing too, since he knew he had a tendency to start muttering and mumbling about things he found cool – which were often very different to those which Jonas, who had an interest in languages and politics, found interesting. They stay here for a while, suspended in their own little universe, until the sun begins to set and Jonas acknowledges that he needs to go home and explain away the call his parents would have gotten about his absence from school. 

As they’re walking home, Isak’s phone buzzes in his pocket, but is ignored as Jonas and Isak talk the walk away. “Do you want me to walk you home first?” Jonas offers.

Isak hesitates for a minute, checking his phone for the time and seeing the notification, “ _Artvandeley added you on Snapchat,”_ and decides that its too early to go back. “Um, I’m actually gonna go get a coffee and a cake or something for Eskild, see you tomorrow?”

“Sure. Bye Isak.” Jonas smiles.

“Bye Jonas.”

And when Isak walks into KB, his smile drops a little bit when he sees Even, clearly on his break, and a girl, probably his girl, hand in hand against a wall of the Café. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoyed that! I wanted to showcase Isak and his friends interacting, before Evak begins to take over the fic, and even though they have literally interacted twice, I promise its coming!
> 
> Feel free to comment, bookmark, leave a kudo (is it kudo? or just kudos, idk)! 
> 
> :) 
> 
> follow my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/ltwasntyou)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks 4 reading :) leave a comment or a kudos if ya like. 
> 
> I have to isolate for a few weeks so updates might be frequent (they also might not lOL)


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